


Protection

by writings_of_bored_gal



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, x Reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:37:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15340992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writings_of_bored_gal/pseuds/writings_of_bored_gal
Summary: Jaime takes it upon himself to marry the eldest Stark daughter for her own protection, but he didn't realise all of the consequences, or that fact that she would be the one who would save him.





	1. Chapter 1

The guards were flooding the castle. Her father was a traitor, or at least that’s what they’d tried to force her to believe. She hadn’t seen her younger sisters, Arya or Sansa, but she knew that she had to do meet them on the other side of this. There was no other way. 

“My lady.” Her heart stopped as she turned to face the voice. Jaime Lannister. She thought they’d become friends, but of course that went to hell the moment he’d hurt her father in that courtyard. 

“Kingslayer.” She curtseyed, before beginning to run back up the stairs she’d come down on, the sound of metal clanging chasing her. She slammed the door behind her, locking it. She began to try and barricade, only to hear Jaime banging. 

“Y/N!” He shouted through the door. “Let me in and I’ll keep you safe I swear it.” 

“Because your oaths mean so much.” She replied, her voice dripping with an angry sarcasm. She knew that would hurt his ego, but she also didn’t care, not anymore. 

“I have a solution, please.” He begged. She’d never heard him beg before. 

She hesitated, a box in her arms that she’d planned block the door with. “And how do I know you’ve not got an army of gold cloaks on the other side of this door, waiting to arrest me?” 

“You don’t,” He sighed, “You have to trust me.” 

“I don’t trust you any further than I can throw you.” She replied, but she unlocked the door, hoping a little risk might pay off. 

He heard the lock click and his hand pushed the door open. The room was a mess where she’d began to take things apart to put in front of the door. The bed sheet was even already ripped, ready to make a rope for herself. Jaime couldn’t deny the fact that he was impressed by her speed. 

She was standing by the window, breathing heavily. Her chest moving up and down. She wasn’t sure if her breathlessness came from her rushing about, or her fear. She hid it well, but the thought of her family in danger terrified her more than she thought was possible. 

“I… I have a solution.” Jaime began tentatively. He thought about approaching her, trying to comfort her, but he knew better. 

“So you’ve said.” She snapped back. A smirk formed on Jaime’s lips. 

“I can take it away and call the city watch if you’d rather?” He raised his eyebrows, knowing that would shut her up. She needed to listen if this was going to work. 

“Okay.” She whispered. Jaime took her newfound quiet as a queue that he could relax a little. He said down on the torn mattress. He beckoned for her to join him, but she shook her head. Jaime sighed, this was going to be harder than he’d hoped. 

“Y/N, will you marry me?” Jaime said, attempting a dashing grin in her direction.

She grabbed the jug of wine on the table next to him, and threw it in his face, before standing rigidly against the window again. 

“I’ll admit,” Jaime finally said, wiping his eyes, “that’s not the response I was hoping for.” 

“Well, what were you expecting?” She half screeched, half laughed. How could he be so nonchalant? 

“Let me explain myself.” He continued to wipe himself down. She grabbed a towel from the floor and walked over to him, sitting herself on the bed, offering the soft towel to him. He nodded and took it. They sat silent for a moment, Jaime cleaning wine from his uniform, her sitting silently watching him. 

“My father’s never wanted me to be a knight.” Jaime spoke as he continued to clean himself down. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he slid the towel up and down his muscular arms, wiping away the red of the wine. “He’s always wanted me to be the Lord of Casterly Rock, but it’s never appealed to me until now. I’ll give up my knighthood to protect you, I’ll marry you, Lady Stark.”

“But I don’t understand, why?” She stared at him, still enchanted by his looks but also bewildered by his proposal. 

“Because whilst we may not love one another,” He raised his eyebrows and she blushed, “I have grown fond of you. You’re not like- well you’re not like any other woman I’ve had the pleasure of being with, and I think perhaps one day you’ll be able to make this up to me.” 

She wasn’t sure whether to believe him. Hell, Jaime wasn’t even sure he believed himself. His reason wasn’t exactly a lie. He was fond of the oldest Stark girl. He’d watched her be kind to Tyrion at Winterfell, and then again act nobly when confronted by Joffrey on the travels down from Winterfell to Kings Landing, including sacrificing her beloved dire-wolf for her sister’s continued betrothal to the prince. Yes, he was certainly fond of the girl, but his motivation remained the same as it had for the majority of his life; Cersei. 

Jaime had done everything for her, he’d even pushed the Stark boy from the tower to keep their relationship a secret, but things had changed. Joffrey had become more manic, more obsessed with the idea of power, and now that Robbert was dead, Cersei was sure to put the boy on the throne. Jaime couldn’t support it, not anymore. He was the boy’s father, and yet he wasn’t, not really. This was his attempt to save his wrong doings, save the things that were right in the world, and she was what was right with the world in his eyes. 

She took a deep breath. She had to make a decision that she didn’t have time to make. Jaime was the Kingslayer, oath breaker, rumoured sister fucker. But what choice did she have? He’d never done anything cruel to her, and this was her chance to save her family. Poor Sansa and Arya still in the Keep, not knowing what was happening. She had to go through with it. 

“I accept your proposal, Lord Jaime.” She said, after what felt like an eternity. 

“Then it’s decided.” Jaime stood up. “I’ll write to my father and tell him the good news.” 

She stood up to join him, and he looked at her more intently. She blushed as he took her hand and kissed it softly. 

“You’re safe now.” He whispered, and for the first time since leaving Winterfell, she felt like maybe she finally could be.


	2. Chapter 2

She took Sansa’s arm as she trailed through the garden, slowly and deliberately, listening to any little thing she could from the various gardeners and workers, particularly about Jaime. 

“Perhaps we can go for a walk in the city soon.” She asked her younger sister hopefully. “I’m sure we could find a guard who’ll be willing to accompany us.” 

“Perhaps.” Sansa replied, no emotion in her voice. They were the only two Starks left in the Red Keep. With their father dead and Arya lost, they only had one another, and yet Sansa wouldn’t open up to her sister. Not like how she used to at Winterfell.

She sighed. Life at the Red Keep hadn’t been easy since the death of her father, Lord Eddard Stark. Jaime’s proposal of marriage had kept her safe, to an extent. She hadn’t been imprisoned to captured by the guards. She, like Sansa who was betrothed to Joffrey, was now considered a Lannister by her own right, but it didn’t keep her safe entirely. 

When Cersei had heard of her and Jaime’s betrothal that evening, she’d stormed off. She knew the twin had begun to plot against the marriage immediately. Jaime had spent as much time with Y/N as possible, to keep her away from the company of Cersei, but he’d been forced to leave to go and fight in the war for his father, against her brother. She’d tried to insist on joining him, but he believed it to be safer for her in King’s Landing. 

When word reached the palace that he had been captured by Robb, she knew that she was no longer as safe as Jaime had hoped. She sent ravens on behalf of the king, but the Lannisters wouldn’t stop breathing down her neck. 

The one person whom she was able to talk to with some sort of trust and assurance was Tyrion. Tyrion knew what it was to be an outsider. When his father finally arrived, he’d been pushed to the side once again. She found a comfort in talking to him. He was the one Lannister who didn’t seem to hate her, apart from Jaime of course, but he’d been gone for months.   
______________________

Jaime stank. His cell stank. The whole camp seemed to smell of shit. He thought perhaps he’d get used to it, but each day he still found himself feeling the need to wretch at the stink. 

Night came, and so did his new visitor in the form of Catelyn Stark. She dismissed the guards. 

“What has become of Y/N?” She asked. 

“I don’t know.” Jaime replied. 

“Liar.” Catelyn almost shouted, but if anyone were to know of her presence other than the guards, Robb may not be able to trust her again. “Why do I hear rumours of you growing so fond of her?” 

“Ah,” Jaime smiled slyly, “That may be because of our engagement.” He hadn’t got a lot over the noble Lady Stark, but she hadn’t heard of their engagement. Perhaps the Young Wolf hadn’t either. Fighting the Lannisters now meant fighting her daughter’s family and losing her chance of safety once and for all. 

“Excuse me.” Catelyn left, suddenly. Gods, Jaime thought, I know it might come as a shock but at least have the balls to tell me how unworthy of your daughter I am, as you already believe. 

Catelyn returned, this time a knight at her side. This man- not a man, just a huge woman- had a face of stone. She looked at Jaime with disgust. 

“Why?” was all that Catelyn said. 

“The rumours were somewhat true.” Jaime sighed. “I am fond of your daughter, Y/N. She is a truly lovely thing, but I didn’t do it for that. I did it to protect her.” Jaime paused, waiting for some sort of protest from one of the two women in front of him, but finding no response, he carried on. “When I heard of your noble husband’s treachery I knew she’d be caught in the crossfire, and I didn’t think she deserved it. So I proposed to her, and she accepted under the terms that I keep her safe.” He laughed before adding, “Something I find increasingly difficult from this cage.” 

“Fine Kingslayer,” Catelyn looked to the knight. “Brienne, please take the Kingslayer back to King’s Landing in exchange for my daughters. All of them. Bring them home to Winterfell.” She gave Jaime a pointed look, but all he could think about was freedom.   
______________________

“You look beautiful Sansa.” She smiled a watery smile as they both walked their way down to the sept. 

“Thank you.” Sansa’s reply was a whisper. Joffrey stopped them at the door.

“I’ll be escorting Sansa down the aisle, my lady.” He said, dismissing her as she moved to let him past.

“Of course your Grace.” She gritted her teeth as she made her way into the sept, choosing to sit with the Tyrells. Margery had been warm enough, but she knew not to trust her fully. 

Tyrion was standing at the front of the sept, looking more nervous than she’d ever seen him. She felt awful. Sansa was having to marry Tyrion because she was already betrothed to Jaime. Sansa knew this just as well. Perhaps that’s why she gave her older sister such a scornful look as she walked down the aisle. 

The ceremony was embarrassing. People in the hall laughed at the ridiculous pairing Tywin Lannister had forced, although no one dared say anything truly to oppose the marriage aloud. She felt awful, but there was little she could do without Jaime being here. She’d heard of his release, and yet he still hadn’t made it back to King’s Landing. Everyday she prayed, but the gods were cruel and gave her no response, instead forcing more misery on her sister and her one friend in the Keep.   
______________________

Jaime sat in the saddle, staring at the city as though he’d never seen it before. 

He’d be home soon. He may have lost a hand, but he would soon gain a wife- assuming she’d still marry him and Cersei hadn’t killed her.

Brienne sat on her horse next to him. She nodded in acknowledgement. Since he’d collapsed in the baths of Harrenhal and then saved her from the bear, their relationship had become more civil. She respected him. She also believed that perhaps he was a better protect for the oldest Lady Stark than she could be against the Lannisters, as he knew them better than Brienne ever would. Perhaps She would give her the choice, to stay with her betrothed to to return to Winterfell. 

They began to ride into the swarms of people, home so close that Jaime could feel it.   
______________________

She sat in her room. Sansa wouldn’t stay with her anymore, too upset herself to have company. Her mother and brothers were dead. Killed by the family she and her sister were stayed with. Fear gripped her every meal time before she took a bite of food or a sip of wine. Everything in this place was poisoned. 

She was completely alone. The Tyrells were too busy preparing for Joffrey’s upcoming marriage with Margery and Tyrion was trying to win over Sansa. She was too scared to talk to her handmaids for fear that they will feed anything she says back to Cersei, who still sent her threatening looks and comments whenever she managed to bring herself to the hall for dinner. 

She’d found some solace in the books she found, telling tales of the Targaryens and their dragons. She hadn’t read so much since she was a young girl, but now the books were a comfort, taking her to a more innocent time. 

A knock on the door interrupted her reading. It was probably one of the maids. 

“Come back later!” She shouted, not looking up from the page she was on. 

“Is that anyway to greet your husband to be?” 

“Jaime.” She breathed. She looked to the door to find a man who looked nothing like the Lord who had left her, but who was un mistakably Jaime behind the beard and dirt. His arm was in a cast, his hand had gone. 

He looked at her almost nervously, waiting for her to reject him now that he was no longer the perfect specimen he’d been before, but she didn’t. 

She put down her book and walked over to him, softly touching his face, pushing the hair away. She kissed him, gently at first and then harder. She’d never been happier to see anyone in her life. Jaime melted into the kiss.

“You need a shave.” She smiled, pulling away. He chuckled, surprised at the sound. 

“You’ll still marry me if I shave?” He asked, looking into her eyes, questioning her despite everything. 

“Yes, Jaime.” She sighed and leaned into him. He let her hold him, and he held her back. 

He was home at last.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been only a few days since Jaime’s return, but Tywin Lannister wasn’t one to wait. 

She looked at the dress in the mirror, white adorned with patterns of gold. Sansa sat on the bed silently watching her sister as the her handmaids fussed around her. 

“That’ll be all, ladies. Thank you.” She dismissed the maids, leaving her alone with Sansa. She went and sat, placing her hand gently over her sisters. “I wish some of this had grey, or a wolf. that’d how I’d always imagined it.” she smiled, but Sansa simply glared at the floor in front of her. 

“We can’t always have what we want.” Sansa replied, bitterness edging her voice. Of course, Sansa’s marriage had been far worse, but neither of them had had the beautiful Winterfell wedding they’d dreamed of, nor the dashing, honourable husbands. “At least Jaime is fond of you, and you of him.” 

She smiled a little, causing her sister to glower. Sansa hadn’t been wrong. Her and Jaime had some sort of sweet understanding, a sense of protection and honour had come between them. He’d seemingly been through as many, if not worse, hardships as she had in the months they’d been apart, and both felt a sympathy for the other that no one else could quite understand.

She’d managed to speak to Lady Brienne one day. She told her of what had happenedHow her and Jaime had managed to save one another on multiple occasions, and her affections for her husband-to-be only seemed to grow with each tale Brienne told her. The knight also told her of her mother’s wishes bu she could only sigh and point out what to Brienne was already obvious; she must stay with Jaime for her own sake and for his. 

A knock on the door took her out her thoughts, causing the two Stark sisters to both stand from the bed and break the uneasy silence. Sansa went to answer the door, allowing her lord husband to enter the room. 

“My lady,” He turned to her immediately, “You look a vision, truly.” 

“Thank you.” She replied, nodding as he took Sansa’s arm in the best fashion he could, leading the two women out of the room towards the small castle sept. 

Her and Jaime’s wedding was not to be a big one, for Joffrey’s wedding to Margery Tyrell was to take place in a mere few weeks and the event was forbidden from being overshadowed. It was only family aloud to attend, which for her meant only Sansa. They’d have a small meal afterwards, but no bedding ceremony, thank the gods. 

She’d asked for Tyrion to walk her down the aisle, so when the reached the doors, Sansa moved ahead. The Lannisters hadn’t been pleased with her request, but Tyrion was the only one she liked apart from Jaime, and in a sense he was her brother, so they were eventually persuaded. 

Her breath was shaky, but Tyrion was sure to squeeze her arm as the doors to the sept opened. IT was almost empty but it still intimidated her. Jaime tried to smile reassuringly, but was put off by the glare Cersei was shooting in his direction, so it truly just felt awkward as she reached the top of the stairs. 

The ceremony took place in almost complete silence. When it came to Jaime covering her with the cape, she had to aid him by holding one side, which she saw embarrassed him but she smiled a weak smile of reassurance as she took the cape from his hand. He nodded a little stiffly in response, but as he stood back at the alter, his hand reached fro hers to take. They were in this together now. 

The dinner was quiet. Lord Tywin was attempting to tell the new Lady of Casterly Rock about her future home, but Cersei’s constant looks of loathing and disapproval stopped her from being too enthusiastic. It was truly a relief when the night was over, and her and Jaime could finally retire to their new, marital bed. 

“Are you…” Jaime began, stopping himself as he turned the knob of the bedroom door. 

“A maid?” She smirked and he blushed. “I am.” 

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t-“ Jaime began, trying to be chivalrous but he could feel the blood creeping up his neck in a blush, “If you don’t feel comfortable.” Her smirk grew as she pushed open the door and poured herself a glass of wine. His poor wife. She stood there, a quiet confidence hiding her fear that had lingered with her since dinner. She wasn’t safe here. He needed to take her to Casterly Rock, away from the meddling of the crown. 

She noticed Jaime’s concerned look and wandered over to him. She pressed her lips to his, feeling his hand cup the back of her head. 

“I’m okay, Jaime.” She smiled. “Really,” She kissed him again, gently pulling his shirt towards the bed. “I have you.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jaime snored softly as his wife played with his hair, a quiet giggle escaping her lips. The morning sun shone through the curtains, making the light bounce of his golden, blonde locks. He turned over, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Can we just stay in bed today?” He asked, pulling her in closer to him. she wished she could have said yes. She loved these precious minutes with him before the household came in, when it was just the two of them and no one else could interfere. 

It had been a few weeks since their wedding day, and it had seemed almost too perfect. Everyone was too occupied with Joffrey’s impending marriage to do much about theirs. Her and Jaime had been left quite alone, with the exception of Tywin asking if she was pregnant yet and Cersei’s ever constant glares, but even the lioness had eased off as the wedding preparations took centrefold. 

“Today of all days, we cannot stay in bed,” She eventually replied, wriggling from her husband’s hold to kiss him before getting up and robing herself. “Today is the King’s wedding.” 

“Ah yes, what a wonderful day it shall be.” Jaime chuckled darkly. “I can’t believe Cersei’s managed to get me on guard duty as well, I thought my days as a knight were over.” He gestured to his stump. 

He’d been so self conscious about it at first, but once, when he’d yelled in frustration as his heavy golden hand knocked over wine to the plush rug on the floor, she’d decided enough was enough. She’d taken the golden hand off him herself and kissed the place where it had been. “When I am with you, I want only you.” She told him. Since then, he had begun to discard the ugly and heavy thing more often in private. 

Jaime watched his wife from the bed. She was looking out of the window as the crowds gathered on the streets of King’s Landing. He had a bad feeling about the day ahead, one that he couldn’t seem to shake, but he didn’t tell that to his wife. He didn’t want her to be concerned for him as he put himself on guard duty for the first time since returning home. 

They were inevitably interrupted by the knocking of maids at the door, letting themselves in as they did every morning. They prepared two baths and bought in Jaime’s old white cloak of the Kingsguard and a deep purple dress with golden lining for his wife. 

“Why have you bought this uniform?” Jaime asked one of the maid’s, confused as to why she’d bring him the uniform of his old position when he had simply been asked as a form of extra protection. 

“Her majesty asked for you to wear it, my lord,” the maid replied, “She said to tell you that today, you are the King’s most important guard.” 

Jaime’s jaw clenched. He saw his wife’s shoulders tense out of the corner of his eye. Cersei was pretending he was still hers, for today at least. For their son’s wedding. He’d never discussed the issue of his children with Cersei with Y/N, but he knew that she knew, or at least had strong suspicions. It was Eddard Stark, after all, who had told Stannis Baratheon of the illegitimacy of the king, and he’d be shocked if the girl chose not to believe her father. 

“Thank her majesty for the honour.” Jaime said, bitterness tinging his voice, before donning the plain white armour. He’d never seen his wife look at him with disgust before, but that was the expression on her face when he finally plucked up the courage to look at her. 

It was hours before they saw one another again at the feast. Jaime had been dragged out of the room for security preparations in the city as she was getting ready. She’d stayed with Sansa for most of the day. Her poor younger sister watched as the boy who’d hurt her so badly was adored by his new wife and his people. It made the two Stark sister’s stomach’s turn, standing as he was cheered on the stairs of the steps where he’d ordered the execution of their father. 

She smiled through the pain, making small talk with the lords and ladies that seemed to swarm around her wherever she went. Eventually she could take it no longer, taking herself to Jaime’s side. 

“I’m sorry.” He said, as soon as she met him in a quiet corner. “You shouldn’t have to be doing this alone.” She was made more gentle at his apology and the events of the morning already seemed to have erased themselves. She squeezed his non-golden hand and smiled weakly at him. 

“I’ll survive.” She said and he squeezed her hand back before answering an officer who had begun to hover around them, waiting for Jaime to be available. 

She found her place to dine, on the high table, but at the end. She was a Lannister, but not by blood and not good enough to be close to the king, it seemed. Sansa was to her side, however, forced into the same position she was in. At least they were together. 

The day was going remarkably well, until the gift giving began. Tyrion had his thoughtful gift smashed into a million pieces by Joffrey’s new toy, Widow’s Wail. She tried to hide her pained expression, and succeed to everyone but Jaime. It wasn’t, however, until the presentation of the mummers, all dwarves acting as the various kings of Westeros, that she began to lose her temper. The one of her beloved brother, Robb, bought tears to her eyes, but she forced them back, refusing to show weakness.

Jaime watched the blood boil in his wife’s eyes, feeling similarly himself. His brother, humiliated by the act, asked Podrick to stop the whole thing, but that only made the situation worse. Joffrey didn’t seem to be done. 

He drank wine, more and more of it, giving him a new air of terrifying nonchalance to his actions. 

Jaime looked to Cersei, trying to get him to control her son but nothing seemed to be working to control the boy. 

Until everything seemed to stop. He began to choke. It was awful but no one seemed to be able to tear their eye from the agonising scene. His face became purple, Cersei screamed. Jaime was helpless. The eldest Stark girl turned to her sister, only to find that she had disappeared. The King was dead and chaos now reigned. 

She was waiting from him when Jaime finally made it back to their room that night. It was late. He didn’t even undress before sitting on the bed, his back to her, his head in his hands. 

“Jaime?” She whispered, but his only reply was silence. She wasn’t sure if she should approach him, touch him to comfort him. She took a deep breath, giving herself a little courage. “He was your son, Jaime, you’re allowed to grieve.” 

“He was a monster.” Jaime spat. “He was my son, but I’d be a fool not to see that.” She retreated into bed as he stood and undressed. He climbed into bed without a word. She reached for his shoulder, touching it lightly. He gulped back a sob and she closed the gap between them, her legs entwining with his as he took her in his strong arms. 

“I’ll never let our children be like that.” He said into her hair as her eyes started to fall, sleep overcoming her, “I’ll be a father to them, I swear.”


	5. Chapter 5

Their world had fallen to pieces overnight. Tyrion has been thrown in jail, Sansa had left and poor young Tommen was being forced into a position of power that he was not ready for. 

Jaime was distraught, his whole family seemed as though it was on fire, and she was completely alone. The only Stark left, as far as anyone knew. A lone wolf left in the middle of the wilderness to fend for herself. She had no friends left in the keep, everyone suspecting her of helping her sister escape, and as much as Jaime tried to convince her that he didn’t believe any of it, she would sometimes catch him glancing at her with a suspicious eye when he believed she wasn’t looking. 

And as if this weren’t enough, she was struck by sickness.

She spent much of her time in bed, avoiding moving. After a week or so, Jaime began to worry about her so much that he agreed to let Maester Pycelle see her. He didn’t trust maesters, they all seemed to him perverts or lunatics, but when his wife rolled away from his touch that morning to wretch, sweat drenching her whole body, he had given up.

Jaime stood by the window as the maester examined her, his brow furrowed with worry. She’d been distant recently, but when she saw his expression she smiled sweetly at him, making him melt. He wandered over, joining her on the bed, leaning over so his hand could meet hers and their fingers intertwine. She took a breath, one of relief. They remained strong. 

“Well, Lady Lannister,” Maester Pycelle began, interrupting the intimate moment between the couple, “I believe there is a simple explanation for your sickness.” 

“And what can you do about it?” Jaime asked, a little brusquely.

“Well, my lord, your lady is with child, so not a huge amount.” Pycelle chuckled lightly. “I can advise a tea in the morning which can help with the nausea but-“

“With child?” Jaime stood up, breaking contact with his wife. She remained on the bed, her hand moving towards her stomach. Pregnant? “We thank you for your service Pycelle, now what will it take to keep your mouth shut?” 

“Excuse me, my lord?” Pycelle was taken aback, as was she. Jaime was enraged, agitated, now pacing around the room, refusing to look at her. 

“No one can know, Pycelle, so what will it take?” Jaime approached the man now, standing easily as head above him, glaring down at the old man. “Gold, whores, land?”

“My-my lord I swear I-“ Pycelle was backed against the door now. She watched, unable to move, her mouth agape. 

“Jaime.” She eventually said. Her husband turned to look at her, the threat leaving his eyes. He backed away, instead walking to his drawer from which he pulled out a sizeable bag of gold. He tossed it at the maester’s feet. He looked at her and she nodded, understanding. “Thank you for your discretion, Pycelle.” The man’s eyes widened, but he nodded silently back to her before taking his cue to leave. 

Jaime collapsed on the bed, his head in his hands, not looking at her. She moved to be next to him, her hand meeting his back. His head moved to rest on her chest. She took her hand and made smalls circles on his back, the touch comforting Jaime until he eventually let out a small sob.

He’d never been scared, not truly. He’d been into battle a hundred times before, he’d slain many a man, even a king, but this was different. The threat didn’t come from an army of men on horses, it came from a far more frightening source. Cersei. Her poisonous, possessive mind terrified Jaime more than he thought was possible, especially now that it threatened his wife and unborn child. 

He felt her against him. He listened to the thump of her heart, he felt the rise and fall of her chest and her hand, still making circles on his lower back. Whilst her physical touch was a reassurance, she also seemed to radiate strength and calm. In that moment, Jaime suddenly realised just how much his wife had lost. Her entire family was presumed dead, her home ruined, and the naive hope she’d had when she’d first arrived from Winterfell had been replaced with a sad knowing. He sat up, removing himself from her and she looked at him, question in her eyes. 

Jaime took a moment just to look at her, admiring her, before pulling his wife closer to him, wrapping his arms around her. She didn’t sob like he had, she just returned the embrace and breathed him in. 

“What are we going to do?” She asked into his chest. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” Jaime sighed, still not pulling away from the embrace. “I think Pycelle will stay quiet for now but she’ll find out eventually.” 

“Cersei.” She whispered, causing Jaime to squeeze her tighter. 

“She’s not unbeatable, Y/N,” He kissed her head, “Not to me.” He felt her nod and let her stay against him for as long as she needed. 

It was still. Somehow, amongst all of the chaos, her and Jaime managed to find these moments of peace when they were alone together, and everything seemed to float away. She took his hand and rested it on her stomach. She was nervous, but Jaime responded gently, his hand cupping where there would soon be a bump. She allowed herself a small chuckle and Jaime kissed her.

It wasn’t like their usual kisses, which had usually been passionate and lead to sex. This one was so tender, so honest- Jaime couldn’t even remember the last time he’d let himself kiss like that. 

“I love you,” She said, and as the words left her lips, she realised the despite the months that they had been together, neither of them had said the words. She felt the blush rush to her cheeks and Jaime’s eyes widened, realising the same. 

He’d never been in love with anyone but Cersei before, and whilst he knew he loved his wife, until she’d said it he’d found it difficult to admit it to himself, terrified that his love would hurt him the way it had when he’d loved Cersei, but she was different. She would never, ever be Cersei. 

“I love you, too.” He said back, looking from her face to where their hands still rested on her stomach. “And nothing will get in my way.” He kissed her again and wrapped his arm around her.

He stared out the window, waiting for something to ruin his happiness, but at least for this moment, nothing could.


	6. Chapter 6

She sat with her back against the wall of the damp cell, breathing slowly through her mouth to resist the urge to throw up at the scent. It was dark and grimy.Tyrion sat on the floor in front of her, watching as her hands twisted in themselves with nerves. 

“Jaime doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” Tyrion smiled softly at her, hoping to calm her nerves, but his statement only seemed to make her squirm more. She nodded. She had come down to the cells but hadn’t said a word. She was terrified, but not of him. He looked past her to where the guards were standing. “You’re secret is safe with me, my lady.” 

She nodded again, but felt her nerves release just a little. She was constantly on edge these days. She wasn’t noticeably showing yet, not to anyone who didn’t know, so she could still make her way around the grounds, but she didn’t speak freely to anyone. She avoided dinners when she could, preferring to eat alone than be noticed. Jaime didn’t help her nerves either. He was obsessed with keeping their child a secret, like it was something forbidden. She understood he was afraid of them being hurt, but it almost hurt her more that her husband seemed so ashamed of her. 

“Lord Tyrion-“ 

“Please, my lady, I imagine the ‘lord’ title will soon be dropped, and besides, we’re family. Please call me Tyrion.” 

“Tyrion,” She began again, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited earlier… It’s been a difficult time.” She thought of Sansa. She thought of Jaime. She thought of the home, of Winterfell and how she couldn’t even run there. “Although I don’t imagine being here has exactly been a picnic either.” She smirked a little as Tyrion laughed darkly at the comment. 

“I imagine you’re almost as lonely as I am.” He said to her, causing her eyes to prick with tears. She pushed them back down and smiled weakly at the dwarf. He examined her more closely, watching her movement. Her hands moved constantly, an anxious tick, but they also kept on flitting back to her stomach, and all of a sudden Tyrion caught on. 

She watched as the realisation dawned on Tyrion’s face and she felt herself flush, her eyes pleading with him. She couldn’t say anything out loud, not in direct reference, so she pleaded with her eyes, begging for him to keep quiet. “I imagine I won’t be so lonely soon.” 

Tyrion approached her, taking her hand, showing her that he understood. “I hope so.” A tear finally escaped her eyes as she gave into her sadness. “I imagine this must be increasingly difficult without Sansa. I’m truly sorry I don’t know where she could have gone, but if it’s worth anything, I also don’t believe she could have murdered Joffrey anymore than I could have.” 

“Thank you, Tyrion.” He squeezed her hand and she squeezed back. A small gesture, but one of solidarity. “I also don’t believe either of you could’ve done it, but Cersei has forbidden me from testifying, so I don’t imagine it will be of much use.” 

“I appreciate it all the same, my lady.” Tyrion kept his small smile, but she saw the pain behind his eyes. 

She left the cell, feeling better. Tyrion had been her friend for even before her marriage to Jaime, so she trusted him more than most people else in the castle, perhaps even more than Jaime. The only other person who she also trusted was Brienne. Brienne was loyal not just to Jaime, but to her, her mother and her sisters, which was more than she could say of anyone else in King’s Landing. This was why she had organised a meeting with Brienne that afternoon. 

The only safe place she knew of was the room that she slept in with Jaime, so this was where a selection of cheese and fruit awaited her. She ushered her maids away before Brienne could even arrive and sat waiting, idly sipping on juice.

She stood when she heard the knock at the door. Brienne stood at least a head and a half over her, but she had never intimidated her. Today she was dressed down, wearing an outfit of silver and deep blue. 

“It’s good to see you, my lady.” Brienne smiled as she awkwardly accepted the Lady Lannister’s embrace. 

“And you, Brienne, and please call me Y/N. I’d like to think we’re friends by now.” She guided her to the terrace as Brienne chuckled softly behind her. She sat, basking in the soft sunlight, more at ease now her knight was with her. “I hear you are to leave King’s Landing soon?”

“I’m afraid so. I’d like to find your sisters, to keep my promise to your mother.” Brienne poured herself some wine, offering her companion some, but she refused. Brienne raised her eyebrows, but did not further question. 

“I truly hope you find them.” She replied, cautiously steering the topic away from the wine. “My sisters and I are incredibly lucky to have a knight like you on our side.”

“I’m no knight, Y/N, and you’ll always have Jaime.” 

“Will I?” Brienne’s eyes widened at the girl’s question. “I fear one day that something will happen, something none of us can predict, will force Jaime’s hand away from me.” She shivered, thinking of Joffrey’s death and how distant Jaime had become because of it. “If something ever happened, would you be able to come back for me, and take me back to the North?” She paused. “Without Jaime.” 

Brienne watched the eldest Stark daughter. She was scared, of what, Brienne wasn’t sure, but she didn’t blame her. She’d witnessed how the Lannisters acted first hand, she’d felt Cersei’s jealous wrath, she couldn’t imagine how much worse it was for Jaime’s wife. 

“Send me the word, and I will return for you, Y/N.” Brienne replied eventually. Y/N visibly relaxed and smiled. 

“Thank you, Brienne. I’ll forever be in your debt.” 

“Debts are for Lannisters. I’d rather have you friendship.” Brienne returned the girl’s smile. 

“You already do.” The girl took Brienne’s hand, “Thank you.” 

At that moment, Jaime strode into the room, armour clanging loudly, alerting the two women of his presence. He ripped off the main layers, his younger cousin of a squire taking them to clean, before going out and joining them on the balcony, helping himself to a large goblet of wine. He kissed his wife on the forehead and she took his hand in hers.

“Tarth, I’ve got something for you before you leave.” Jaime threw Brienne his usual dashing smile. “Everything will be prepared for you in a few days.” 

“Thank you, Jaime.” Brienne nodded in appreciation, watching the couple. Jaime looked at his wife with adoration. She looked back to him with kindness in her eyes, something Brienne imagined he hadn’t seen since his mother had passed away, but there was something else. There was a strange tension, as though they wanted to say something but neither could find the words. 

“I’ll leave you to your evening.” Brienne stood smiling at the pair, receiving a clap on the back from Jaime and a kiss on each cheek from his wife before she left. 

Jaime watched his wife pick at the fruit on the table. She was slumped over. He sat down opposite her, taking her hand. She looked up at him and smiled, but there was a sadness behind her eyes that she’d tried to hide since Sansa had left. Jaime realised how lonely she probably was, but he had never been the most empathetic of men. He didn’t know how to make it better. 

“I hear you visited Tyrion.” He said, wishing he’d thought of something better the moment that the words left his mouth. 

“I did,” She replied, she smiled a little more brightly. “I think he may have guessed at our situation,” She glanced down at her stomach, “But he’s very discreet.” 

Jaime responded to her smile with one of his own, one genuine and full of love for his wife despite all of the trouble they were in. “I’m glad he knows… It might help him get through this.” He paused. “It helps me, you know.” 

“How do you mean?” She asked. 

“Knowing that you’re here, carrying our child, it helps me get through the day. I know it’s not ideal, and I promise that I hate hiding it as much as you do, but-“ Jaime sighed, “I can’t lose what little hope I have left.” 

“You’re not going to lose me, Jaime.” She stood, toking his head and let it rest gently on he stomach. She stroked his hair and his hand came her her waist, pulling her in closer as he leaned back. She sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, her lips landing on his. 

“I’m sorry I’ve not been very…sympathetic.” He grimaced. “I can’t imagine how hard these past weeks have been for you.”

“Thank you.” She kissed him again and leant back, his arms around her, making her feel better than she had in weeks. She thought back to her conversation with Brienne. It’s just a pre-caution, she thought, a last resort. She took a deep breathe. “It’s going to be okay.” She wasn’t sure who she was saying it to, but it just felt like it needed to be said.


	7. Chapter 7

Jaime sat up, unable to sleep again. Tyrion’s trial was taking its toll on him, he realised. He hated not being there for his younger brother and he was beginning to hate his father and sister for making Tyrion go through this. His one solace, he had realised, was his wife. She never wavered, always by his side. She was strong, as many northern women were, and he loved her all the more for it. He glanced over to her now, her face outlined in moonlight. His eyes travelled from her face and down her body, his eyes lingering on her stomach, where she had begun to show. The small bump, a new curve in her body, made his eyes shine with a joy he thought was all but gone. 

Jaime sighed, getting out of bed and pouring himself a glass of wine. He would have to tell Cersei soon. It would be better if it came from him, less lethal than from the mouth of a spy. If all this were not going on, perhaps he’d have the chance, but she was still mourning Joff and she seemed to be permanently angry as it was. 

His wife stirred, aware of him not next to her. She went into panic mode, scrambling up from her pillow and looking around the room, only to slump back in relief to see her husband sitting with a glass of wine only five feet away. Jaime chuckled.

“Do you find it amusing to try and give me a heart attack?” She moaned. 

“I’m sorry.” He strolled over to her side of the bed, kneeling as she turned to lay and face him. “I couldn’t sleep.” She caressed his face and kissed him. He tasted of wine and he hadn’t shaved for a few days, so his stubble grazed her chin lightly. He needed to rest. He needed to get away from his family. She’d thought about proposing they begin their move to Casterly Rock, but it wasn’t the time, it never was with the Lannisters. 

“You need to sleep, Jaime.” She sighed, pulling away just a hair. He ignored her and kissed her more forcefully. “Please…” She whispered against his lips. “I’m worried about you.” 

He pulled back to look at her in the face. Her eyes were closed, but he knew behind her lids she was hiding her fear for him. He took her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He vaguely remembered his mother doing it to him once, when his father had made him cry. She smiled weakly at the comforting gesture.

“I’ll try, I will.” His hand dropped and he walked back over to his side of the bed. She dropped back off to sleep before he could. Her breathing calmed him. The rise and fall of her chest, the soft sounds she made calming him into his own sleep.

Cersei glared at the two of them as they stood in the hall the morning after. Her arm was laced through his. He would occasionally whisper something in her ear, making her smile sickeningly sweetly. Cersei felt nauseas just observing them from afar. 

Cersei was dressed in a dress that pulled in at her waist, dropping below her shoulders and across her chest, showing how despite her age and children, she maintained her slim, womanly figure. Jaime’s wife, on the other hand, wore a plain gown that pulled her into the background. It was loose and unflattering, but Jaime was looking at her with more love in his eyes than he’d ever given Cersei. 

People were still filing into the hall. She had time before the trial began again that day, and she decided to make the most of it. Tywin observed his daughter walk across the front of the hall towards Jaime and his wife, but pretended not to notice. There was no point in trying to stop her. 

“Would you mind if I stole my brother, for a moment?” Cersei decided against any real graces. Instead taking him by the arm with a grip like steel, tearing him away froths wife without another word.

She watched as Jaime walked away with his sister on his arm as though she was his mistress. He turned back to her, his eyes apologetic, but he carried on walking into the small side chamber, the door shutting it behind them. 

“You stand there bold as brass with her.” Cersei growled. “Do you forget of what we had, Jaime?”

“Of course I don’t, but she is my wife. I-“ He didn’t finish. He looked at the ground. 

“You love her?” Cersei laughed, the sound harsh, cutting Jaime so deep it made him wince. Cersei was the only person he knew who could do that to him. “So you’ll have your little litter of wolf cubs, I suppose, and leave me here with what’s left of our children?” 

“I never said anything about leaving.” He retorted, sounding weaker than he would have liked. 

“Ah, but you’re planning a litter then?” Cersei snaked her way over to him. He refused to look at her. Cersei thought back to his wife, standing outside… Her loose gown. A cruel smile turned her lips upward. “She’s pregnant already, isn’t she?” 

Jaime looked at her now. He saw the mocking gleam in her eyes, and her ever twisted smirk. He thought of his wife outside, with her kind eyes and soft touch. He refused to be ashamed of them. He refused to bow down to the woman who had made him miserable for so long. He wouldn’t be afraid of her. 

“Yes. And I swear when this trial is over I’m taking her where you cannot hurt her, or me, anymore.” He spat, turning and leaving before she could answer. 

His claim was bold. He didn’t have any idea where he could take her, apart from Casterly Rock. It was his childhood home, somewhere that he loved. He could imagine taking her there, watching their children grow up where he once had. His father would certainly be on board with the idea, he had never even wanted Jaime to leave Casterly Rock in the first place. 

Her husband had left his meeting with Cersei with a somber look on his face, but she knew better than to ask what. She let him walk past her, and watched as he instead approached his younger brother. 

“I understand a congratulations are in order.” Cersei said quietly into her ear. She felt her teeth grit tightly together. As Cersei wrapped her arm around her waist. “Who would have thought a lion and a wolf would come together to have cubs? Some might say it’s impure-“

“I suppose those are the same people that would put their brothers through hell purely for their own joy.” She snapped back. 

“Oh I’m sure you know that one of them found his own ‘joy’ with me.” Cersei slipped off before she could reply, leaving her desperately stranded, questioning what in the seven hells she was meant to do next.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’re not going.” She shook her head, easing herself onto the bed. Her stomach had grown considerably and she was finding it harder and harder to move around. 

“I don’t have any choice.” Jaime replied, exasperated. It had been the same fight now for almost a fortnight. Jaime had been asked by Cersei to go to Dorne, or at least that what he had told his wife. 

“Jaime, you’ll be gone for months.” She closed her eyes, feeling the pain of a kick deep in her belly, reminding her that there wasn’t much time left before their child would be out in the world. Jaime couldn’t go now, not when threat loomed ever closer. Brienne had left Kings Landing, leaving her with no friends or even allies within the Keep. She spent her days alone whilst Jaime trained, hoping not to be poisoned by the next meal she ate. If Jaime left, she wasn’t sure if she could survive any longer. The Stark name meant nothing in the South, not anymore. 

Jaime watched as a single tear ran down her cheek and onto the pillow. He’d promised her protection, hadn’t he? He was trying, but it never seemed to be as easy as he hoped. He thought back to his conversation with Cersei. 

“You have got to go to Dorne to retrieve our daughter.” She’d said, a glass of wine held delicately in her hand, an eyebrow arched as Jaime’s expression became aghast. 

“You know that I can’t do that. I’m not fit to do it.” He said gesturing to his golden hand. 

“Oh I know that’s not your real excuse.” She stood, her catlike body weaving its way towards him. “You’re worried that with you away I’ll finally have the excuse to poison your tart and the brat of yours she’s carrying.” Jaime’s whole body stiffened as she leaned in towards him, the smell of the wine strong in her breath. 

“You know if you hurt her-“

“You’ll what, Jaime? Kill me?” Cersei smirked. “Let’s jut say if you don’t do this for me, sweet brother, I’ll be the one doing the killing.” 

Cersei was lethal. If he went, he’d be saving her as long as Cersei kept her word, but there was no guarantee. If he didn’t go, Cersei was sure to kill his wife, leaving him with no other option than to go back to her. 

“Come with me.” Jaime said suddenly, not thinking about anything apart from her, about keeping her alive. She furrowed her brow, thinking about it. “I mean no, that’s a ridiculous idea you’re over six months pregnant. 

“I’ll come with you. I don’t care.” She reached for him, clinging his arm. This was her chance to get out of there, away from Kings Landing, maybe forever. “Jaime, just… please.” Her eyes were pleading, filling themselves with tears that Jaime could not longer deny. He sat down next to her, wiping them gently away, sighing. 

“Fine. But you understand the risk? We can’t tell anyone you’re coming, you’re going to have to leave in a disguise and we’ll be on a ship for a week maybe even longer before we get to Dorne.” She nodded in response. He hated this situation, but he also knew that he couldn’t guarantee her safety when he wasn’t here. 

“I understand, Jaime.” She took both her hands and held them on his face, leaning in and kissing him tenderly. “I know the risks.” There was a tense, knowing silence between them and neither of them moved. 

“We should get some rest.” Jaime eventually whispered. “I’ll inform Bronn and we’ll leave in the next three days.”  
___________________

The preparations were all done efficiently, but in secret. She smuggled away anything she could possibly need underneath her dress, disguising it under her bump. Jaime poke with Bronn and they organised a route in which the three of them could leave the palace without being spotted. 

It was the crack of dawn, and the sun was just peaking over the horizon as Jaime gently lead his wife down the winding staircases through the back of the servants quarters. They were both covered from head to toe in clothes much poorer than they would typically wear. Bronn met them at the bottom, hurrying each of them through the doors into a long, unlit hallway beneath the Keep. 

“I’d stop their if you want to live.” Cersei’s voice echoed around them. Fire flared up around them from the torches on the walls. There were guards all down the hallway, armed and ready to listen to anything Cersei wanted them to do. She clung to Jaime, his breath in her ear, calm and collected despite the fear radiating off of her. 

“Cersei, please.” His voice was pleading but firm. “I’m doing what you asked, I’m going to fetch Marcella-“

“With her!” Cersei interrupted, spitting out the words. “With the woman that you seemed to believe is better than I am.” Her voice cracked in the last word, giving away her feelings. Jaime was the only man that Cersei had ever loved and whilst Jaime may have been drifting, she was the one who finally pulled him away, maybe even changed him. That had broken Cersei. 

“Let us past, you majesty.” Bronn finally said. “Let us past and we can bring back your daughter.” 

“I’ll let you go if you leave her here.” 

“That is not going to happen, your majesty.” She found herself speaking up and the fire in Cersei’s eyes re-ignited. “Even if you take me by force the way you took my sister, the way you’ve killed my whole family, I will never stop fighting you. I love my husband. He’s braver and more noble than you could ever comprehend-“ There was a clatter as a soldier came, drawing his sword and aiming it at Jaime. 

Jaime’s arm went straight over his wife, shielding her from harm, as Bronn’s sword met the guard’s. She tried to peer to see what was going on but Jaime held her so close she couldn’t move. The sound of metal on metal continued to ring through the pass as Bronn fought. Jaime wanted to help him, but there was too much risk. If he let her go, his wife would be a good as dead. 

“Cersei, please make it stop.” Jaime was begging now. “The sooner we get out of here the sooner we can save-“ He took a shaky breath, “our daughter.” He felt his wife tense under his grip but she knew what he was doing. Cersei, underneath everything, was still in love with him and he had to use it even when he did not want to. “But you have to let all three of us go before that ship leaves.”

Cersei hesitated, but waved her hand the sound of swords seized, leaving an eyrie silence. “You’re to be back soon. And in regards to her- she’s not to leave the ship. If you’re going to insist on taking her no one is going to see her.”

Jaime didn’t reply further than a nod, already waking past Cersei, pulling his wife gently but firmly past his twin out of the tunnel into the light of the dawn that met them on the other side.


End file.
